Spider or a Bird?
by Scarlet WebSlinger
Summary: The night Tarantula killed Blockbuster, had a profound effect on Nightwing, but what he doesn't no is what happens to Catalina Flores afterwards. He and his Team are about to have their worlds collide with that of a new Nightwing. Tarantula's son from the year 2037.


Spider or a Bird?

**Yosa! I firstly apologize for putting this off for some time. As I wrote out the first chapter of this series, I kept wondering if this story made me out to be some sort of hypocrite after the Dick/Donna pairing of my previous story, What's the Price for Love? Eventually I came to the conclusion that, this is something that happened to Dick that he had almost no control over. Most of us DC Nightwing fans remember the night when Desmond Rolland, Blockbuster, was murdered by Catalina Flores, Tarantula. And what occurred afterwards. This story is what I think could have happened, seeing as it really didn't seem like they used protection lol. Enjoy and Review.**

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Bludhaven Airport

December 2nd, 2015

7:50pm

A young woman stands in line to board her flight. She acts calm and collected, but inside she is breaking. When did things get so complicated? Back when she was in Quantico life seemed to go a lot easier, but with Bludhaven it's always chaos, death, and violence. The name on her passport is a blatant lie. She stares at the name, and fingers at the picture. The Hispanic woman slowly runs a hand through her long dark hair and shakes her head.

Catalina Marie Flores is her real name. She had come back to Bludhaven only two years ago, and now she was leaving it all behind her. Her days as Tarantula where over, but the blood she had spilled was still thickly coated on her hands and soul. That was something she could never be able to erase. Catalina let her mind wonder to thoughts of a certain bird. He was only doing his job, and she shouldn't have been so childish. But when Desmond Rolland killed John Law it was the straw that broke the camel's back. Angry, hurt and confused she shot Blockbuster down in cold blood, and Nightwing had let her.

Her memories flashed to that rooftop. The rain pounded against the rooftops, and Nightwing lay under her. She hadn't been too sure of where her mind was, but she knew she wanted him. So she held him there on top of those roofs, and she took him. She sat atop of the broken, confused vigilante and felt him deep inside her. She let out groans and gasps of pleasure and she melded their lips together. For a broken man, he sure knew how to use his instincts, and at that moment, their wants were simultaneous.

Now the woman stood waiting for a flight to get the hell out of this damned city. She was no longer Tarantula, just a woman with many regrets. As she boarded the plane she slowly stroked her slightly bulging stomach. She took a deep breath and disappeared from the cursed cities sight.

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Gotham City Harbor

December 25th, 2037

10:47pm

The streets of Gotham City are covered in thick white flakes. Even after all this time, this rat hole of a city still finds ways to surprise me. The lightning flashes in a good moment and I spot the bastard. He's running from me, and from his fate. My comlink suddenly turns on, first it's just static, then I hear her voice.

"Nightwing! Stop fooling around. Just wrap this up and get home now," The female voice speaks to me.

I smirk and reach into my utility belt around my waist; I grasp the small agile wing-ding and let it loose. It fly's through the air and straight toward my target. It sinks into his arm and a moment later he's laying on the ground writhing in pain. A couple thousand volts of electricity will do that too you. After I'm done wrapping him up I head home.

What I call home is a small house that was abandoned a few years back on the outskirts of the city. To me and my mother, it's been home for three years now. My name is John Flores, and I am the Nightwing. My mother told me stories of the original, how he was some great hero, and my father. I begged my mother to teach me to fight, to hunt the bad guys down like my father had. She reluctantly agreed.

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I felt the engine of my motorcycle beneath me as I drove down the barren lost road. Something was bothering me, it was a twisted and sick feeling in the pit of my gut. As I grew closer to home, I could see why. Fire and smoke consumed the small house. I could feel a small piece of sanity chip away at that moment. There was no way this was some accident.

I rushed into the flaming debris, I had to find my mother. She was all I had, the only family I had ever known. I yelled her name out over and over until I spotted a hand. It was smoking and charred. Oh God no… I rushed towards it, there I found her. I found what was left of her. A bloody charred, and smoking corpse. Her dark and beautiful hair had been burnt off, and her body was covered in fresh lacerations. She was tortured and murdered by madmen. Madmen who were going to pay for this dearly.

I held her in my arms and walked out of the house that crumbled behind me and along with it, all of my childhood. I was still holding her when the paramedics and fire department arrived. I was still cursing God to give me back my mother. And I was still there when they took her body and left me in my sorrow. And silently I waited. I waited for him to arrive, the only man who could give me answers and help me now.

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"Nightwing," came the aging voice of my father.

I looked up at him grimly. He wore that cape and cowl, but he couldn't save my mother. I couldn't save my mother.

"It was the Jokesters wasn't it," I asked coldly, already knowing his answer.

I peered up into his lens covered eyes, he knew he couldn't stop me. He just silently walked to his Batmobile and got in, waiting. After a moment of hesitation I got into the seat beside his and we sped off into the night.

It didn't take long to get a fix on the Jokesters location. The Jokesters are a group of psychopathic maniacs, each taking after the original nut. They're nothing but violent murderers, and this time, they took the wrong person. The batmobile sped us towards the gangs location, while I was lost in my thoughts the whole ride there. Silent and cold was Dick Grayson now. That's what my mother described him as now. She wasn't lying.

When we finally arrived to the Jokesters hideout I was determined not to wait for him, but neither was he. We both jumped from the vehicle, even before it stopped moving. I watched as he slipped inside the ancient apartment complex. I smirked and pulled out a grappling gun and fired it up onto the rooftop, quickly moving myself up to the six story window. With a loud crash I was rolling on a bedroom floor and jumping up to be met with gunfire. Typical noobs, they fire without aiming.

"You missed," I whispered coldly and brought and electric escrima down onto a murdering clowns face.

He landed on the floor and I turned my attention to the four remaining murderers in my sight. I was watching, waiting for them to make the first move, while I planned out every bone I was going to break. Finally, the first moved toward me, he raised a crowbar to his head, first mistake. I was behind him in an instant, bringing my escrima down to his knee, I heard it crack and he fell onto the floor in pain. The second thug rushed me with a flying kick, someone say mistake number 2? I was quick to sidestep so he would land in front of me, legs apart. My foot was quickly acquainted with the bastard's family jewels. He groaned and I pushed the electric escrima into his stomach, he fell with a thud beside his friend.

I turned my attention to the two remaining psychos. One looked nervous, while the other was quick to pull out his own piece. Too bad I'm quicker. I sent three wing-dings at the fool with the gun. The first to sunk into an arm and a leg, the third into the gun in his hand. It blew up and he yelped in pain and fell over giving up. I eyed the last one. He stared at me wide eyed and grinned. He began to laugh as he turned and began to run.

My eyes narrowed as I followed after him. He ran through the hallway, laughing and he even began to sing through his laughing fits. I wanted this clown to stop, but he kept on. I chased him onto the rooftop and stopped in my tracks as a large beam of light appeared in the middle of the roof. The laughing clown stood in front of it and grinned at me. That's when I noticed the vile he held in his hand.

"Oh shit," I mumbled, as my job just got a lot harder.

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The Jokester quickly drained the glowing green liquid in the vile. He hunched over and began to laugh. The formula he drank is known as Bobo serum. To put it simply, it's a mix of the liquids that helped create the Joker, add a dash of Bane's Venom juice, and you get Bobos. Not extremely healthy, but the small clowns skin quickly turned white, and his muscles began to bulge and grow. Soon he stood 8ft tall, laughing at me. I hate clowns, but I loathe Bobos.

"Dammit."

The next few moments were quick and terrible. The psycho, behemoth clown came barreling toward me. For such a big guy he could move. I barely dodged as I threw the last of my wing-dings at him. They sunk deep into his flesh, but to him they were practically none existent. I growled at him and I pulled out my electric escrima, turning the voltage all the way up.

I was lucky I turned back toward the clown when I did, because a moment later a large white fist crashed into my escrima, pushing me back toward the light. If I hadn't known better, I would have guessed this is what the clown had in mind the entire time. I gritted my teeth and looked toward the doorway; the old man was standing there yelling something at me. I didn't catch it as my stomach met a now familiar fist. Bobos pack a mean wallop. I could feel two ribs crack, and before I could even raise my escrima to counter I felt my arms being gripped onto and I was thrown into the light. A lot of things flashed through my mind at that moment, regret, anger, sadness, but what I felt most was numb. It was probably the beam I was trapped in, moving my molecules around, but there was nothing but numbness.

Realization hit me as to what the fuck was happening to me. Two words, Boom and Tube. As I felt my mind being ripped apart, thoughts turned to the only woman I had ever loved. My mother… I screamed for her.

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New Mt. Justice

December 25th, 2016

11:43pm

The blaring alarm was what woke most of the young teens from their Christmas time slumbers. Nightwing, however had yet to go to bed. He rushed to the main opening in the cave, there he stopped and watched as a large beam of light shined brightly in the middle of the room. Nightwing was quickly joined by Superboy, Wondergirl, Kid Flash, and Beastboy.

"Whoa! Now that's a boom tube!" the young speedster spoke out.

"But, what's it doing here?" the small green boy asked.

Nightwing stared at the light a moment, then pulled his escrima out. Something felt off about this, but he wasn't sure what.

Suddenly, a noise could be heard from the tube. It sounded an awful lot like screaming. A second later a figure was thrown across the room and crashed into the wall, falling limp and silent. The light then vanished without a trace. The team cautiously moved toward the unmoving figure. Nightwing carefully knelt down beside the unconscious body. The figure was obviously male; his hair was long and a dark brown. The suit he was wearing looked familiar. It looked like his own with the exception of a red wing symbol instead of his blue one. The symbol also stretched out across the chest and up his shoulders, connecting in the back. Whoever he was, he was definitely not from their time. Carefully, Nightwing placed a hand on the unconscious man's shoulder and gave him a small shake.

Bright blue eyes shot open wide and Nightwing found himself on his back, an escrima shoved against his throat. The man on top of his gasped and quickly jumped back onto his feet and stared as the other heroes began to surround him.

"Oh God… Dammit!" the man yelled.

Nightwing was quick to his feet and he stared at the mysterious figure. He looked very familiar, it was really creepy.

"Easy there," Nightwing spoke up.

"I'm Nightwing, and we aren't going to hurt you."

The mysterious person stared at Nightwing then he broke into a fit of laughter. The group of heroes stared a moment, as Kid Flash quickly dashed around the man and came to a stop, his eyes were wide.

"Your Nightwing!" the speedster proclaimed.

"What?" the team reeled back in confusion.

"I am Nightwing. In the year 2037, and you're my father," he spoke pointing his finger to the current Nightwing, Dick Grayson.

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**Ok, so this is the first chapter in a new short series I'm going to be working on. Please Read and review!**


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